Playing Hard to Get (The Players, #1)

by Monica Murphy

It’s not that I hate my job. I love working here, but sometimes, I hate peopling. Peopling is the worst.

“Your father keeps no secrets from me, and I do the same for him. We are completely open with each other. Someday, hopefully, you’ll find a woman you’ll want to tell everything to as well.”

“I like it when you say my name,” he finally admits, his voice low. Gravelly.

“I’ve been wanting to do that since I walked into the room,” he murmurs, his deep voice making me shiver.

I didn’t have sex with anyone. I kissed a woman for about an hour. That’s it. Haven’t done something like that in a long time, and it was thoroughly enjoyable. I forgot how fuckin’ great kissing is.

I hate her on sight, which is so unfair. I’m sure she’s a lovely person, but I don’t like how he’s looking at her. And how she’s looking at him. Like they know each other. As in, know know each other.

“I can’t stop thinking about you.”

I grab hold of her right hand and drag it over, so it rests in the dead center of my chest. Over my rapidly beating heart. “That’s what you do to me, Jo Jo. I know you want this too.”

“If you say one more time how we shouldn’t do this, I’m going to stuff something in your mouth to shut you up.” Her gaze jerks to mine, her lips parting slightly. “What exactly are you going to stuff in my mouth?” My smile is wicked. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“You know what? I’ve changed my mind.” “What do you mean?” “I don’t want you coming over. I’m not your secret hook-up. I’m not…anything like that. I’ve been lied to by a guy before. And I’m pretty sure I’ve been kept a secret. I refuse to ever let that happen again.”

“Stop always putting yourself down. I hate that Bryan made you feel this way. You’re such an incredible person, and you don’t even see it. You’re smart and you’re thoughtful and you’re such a hard worker. You’re a great friend and you’re always there for me. You listen, and not many people listen, Jo. Trust me. Oh, and then there’s the fact that you’re beautiful and you have a bangin’ body. Like, if Knox can’t see that, then he’s a complete idiot.”

“I don’t care if you’ve got big dick energy and you’re the biggest stud on campus, she deserves to be treated like a queen.”

He consumes me, his tongue thrusting into my mouth, his hands gripping my hips. I let him, drowning in his taste, his possessiveness. No one has ever kissed me like this.

“When I get you naked, Joanna, all I care about is seeing every inch of you. Touching your beautiful body.”

“’To live for the hope of it all.’”

“It’s from Taylor Swift’s song ‘August.’ It’s my favorite line she’s ever written.”

“Should I fuck you with my fingers?” I brush my thumb across her panties, her teeth sinking into her lower lip. “Or my mouth?”

“Come on, Jo Jo,” I murmur against her flesh. “Come for me.”

Sweet Knox and his giant dick. His talented fingers and perfect tongue. His outrageous body. God, all of those muscles.

Here I am now, about to knock on his front door, when it swings open before I get a chance. He’s standing there shirtless, wearing a pair of gray sweats and bare feet. Oh, and he’s got a hat on backwards. What the hell? He’s like my every Knox-fueled sex dream come to life. I blink at him, thinking of the videos and memes I’ve seen in the past dedicated to men in gray sweats.

“I look terrible,” I respond and his expression turns cross. “Always putting yourself down.” He shakes his head, grabbing hold of my hand and leading me to his bedroom. “Kind of over it, Sutton.”

He drags me over to his dresser so that we’re standing in front of the mirror that hangs over it. He looms behind me, tall and broad and mouthwateringly handsome, with his gaze locked on mine in the mirror. “Tell me what you see.” I’m frowning. “Me and you?” “No, tell me what you see when you look at yourself.” He wraps his arms around me from behind, resting his chin on my shoulder. “And don’t list all of your faults. Say something positive.”

“Don’t look at me.” He smiles, reaching up to angle my face more toward the mirror. “Look at you, Jo Jo. Tell me all the good things you see.”

“I don’t want to sound like I’m bragging—” “It’s not bragging. It’s like, what do you girls call it? Self-affirmations.”

“This isn’t about me, Jo. This is about you. And how beautiful you are, even though you can’t see it.” He removes his right hand from beneath my shirt, curling his fingers around my chin, holding my face, his thumb stroking my jaw. As if he can’t stop caressing me. “Look at you.”

“Do you see what I see? A beautiful, sexy woman, who I can’t stop thinking about. And it’s not just your outer beauty that gets me. You’re beautiful inside too.”

“Why are you wearing this?” “You want the truth?” Oh no. “I know chicks dig it when we wear our baseball hat backwards.” I groan, settling the hat on my head. “That’s so cheesy.” “It worked right? The sweats. The hat.” “What, is this your seduction outfit?” “It’s my, let’s seduce Joanna outfit. I think you like it.”

“I want to be inside you.”

“I know you might think I’m moving too fast, but I want you so fucking bad.”

He’ll probably kill me when we finally have sex. I’ll either be split in half because of his dick size or the orgasm will be so strong, I’ll stroke out. I don’t know what would be the better way to die. Probably the orgasm.

“’Fuck the patriarchy’?”

“All Too Well” spoke to my soul and I listened to it on repeat for months, crying almost every single time. I was so bitter over my relationship ending with Bryan. It felt so liberating, to revel in the anger of the lyrics. To mark myself with the words from one of Taylor’s sadder songs.

“So fuck the patriarchy?” His lips curve up in the smallest smile and I lean in, pressing my lips to his in a closed-mouth kiss. “Yes,” I whisper against his perfect mouth. “Fuck it.” “I’d rather fuck you.”

“I don’t care about it. Besides, I’m on fire right now at practice.” I frown. “You are?” “Yeah. It’s like I messed around with a hot woman who let me come in her mouth, and next thing you know, I can catch every ball Cam throws my way.”

“I have an idea to make this…easier on you.” “What do you mean?” I ask warily. “I want you on top. That way, you can control everything. Like—how deep I can go inside you.”

“Damn, look at you. You’re doing so good, taking all of me.” His gaze is zeroed in on the spot where our bodies are connected. “Lift up a little, baby. I wanna see it.”

“Ride me,”

“I’m coming, babe.”

That sweet, little orgasm was the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. This woman is so responsive. As if she were made for me.

I want to keep her in my arms all night long. I want to hold onto her and never let her go.

“Anyone ever touch you here before?” My voice is so low, I almost can’t hear it. “No,” she admits, her voice just as low. “I’m gonna make it mine.” The words leave me without thought. “Just letting you know.”

Knox Maguire likes me. I can see it in his eyes when I catch him staring. I can feel it in the way he holds me. Kisses me. How he takes care of me. The things he says.

Vanilla lattes and Taylor Swift and soft blankets she can snuggle under.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think you need to stop going down on me all the time.” I chuckle close to her ear before I bite it. “You’re ridiculous, Jo Jo. What woman wouldn’t want a man to go down on her every single night?’ “You don’t want to do it when I’m on my period.” “A little blood doesn’t scare me.” I’ve never done that, not sure if I actually want to, but if my girl was horny and wanted me to give her an orgasm to help ease the pain from cramps, I’d totally do it. For Joanna, I would.

“You can keep going down on me. Whenever you want. I’m not going to stop you.”

Like how sweet he is. That dreamy look that he sometimes gets in his eyes when he’s looking at me. How forceful he can be too. How he growls or manhandles me when we’re having sex.

Me: And what do you mean, you’ve got me where you want me? I wait nervously for his reply. Knox: With me. All the time.

Does she realize how much she’s got me? I’m whipped. It’s true. I’m one hundred percent whipped for this woman.

She’s all I think about. All I want. Just the idea of her being with some other guy makes me want to murder him with my bare hands and the dude doesn’t even actually exist. At least he better not.

“Once we go social media official, that’s it. Your player status is over,” she reminds me. “I don’t want to play with anyone else but you.”